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POEMS 



J. E. A N N A N. 

First SERGf:ANT, " D" Co., 3d Rf.g't Lm-'y, N. G. P. 

RESPECTFULLY DEDICATED 

TO 

Colonel S. BONNAFFON, Jr., 

Commanding 3d Rkgiment. 



Copyright, 1S87, 
By J. E. ANNAN, 

All rights reserved. 



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A GUARBSMAN'S BAGGAGE. 



A GUARDSMAN fully equipped with all the load he marches under. 
Here is the list of what he carries ; 't will fill you all with wonder : 
A bayonet, scabbard, and cartridge box, a canteen fastened tightly, 
A rifle weighing fourteen pounds, a bayonet polished brightly." 



A knife, a fork, a big tin spoon, and mess plates ; you will find them 
In his haversack, and a tin cup, too, on his knapsack tied behind him. 
On his knapsack's top an overcoat — how snug and tight he rolled it ! 
A woolen blanket, and a gum one too, on his knapsack's back are folded. 



Now the knapsack is the soldier's trunk ; to its contents pay attention. 
First of all, a big brown flask — its use I need not mention — 
A box of blacking, a dip and brush, soap and towels for washing, 
A shaving kit, a collar and tie, to make his appearance dashing." 



A paper of pins, needle and thread, handkerchiefs and white gloves. 
Matches, letter-paper and stamps, to write to his distant loves ; 
A looking-glass, a comb and brush, white pants and underclothing ; 
A pipe, tobacco and segars, blue shirt and extra hosing." 



A little Bible and a tactic book — his guides to iame and glory. 

More I could add, but I am afraid ; you might think I was telling a story. 

'Tis the guardsman on whom you rely, should your dear ones and hearths be 

in danger : 
So give him a cheer as he marches by, though to you he should be a stranger. ' ' 



PAPER SOLDIERS : OR, A WARM DAY. 



The sun was so intensely hot the corn on the cob was popping, 

As I trudged along the dusty road, perspiration from me dropping. 

Through the fearful heat of that August noon I heard their distant drumming, 

And through the stifling air and dust I saw their standards coming. 

I sat upon the top fence rail, with my legs a dangling over. 

And watched them as they turned the road around the field of clover." 



Then up the hill the guardsmen marched, their gleaming bayonets o'er them ; 
Their flags hung down in drooping folds around the men who bore them. 
Our own state flag of bonnie blue — may God bear it through the ages ! — 
The stars and stripes, revered by all, and emblazoned on history's pages. 
The golden wings of the eagles perched on the flagstaff tops seemed drooping, 
As if they felt the sweltering heat with the soldiers 'neath them trooping." 



Rank after rank they passed me by, with tired and jaded faces. 

Their throats were parched with the scorching heat, and white were many 

faces ; 
But, Spartan-like, they still marched on, with dust-covered caps and shoulders. 
Yet these are the men some people gibe, and call them paper soldiers. 
The hot winds swept across the fields, like a thousand ovens blazing, 
Or like the Sirocco's dread death winds from Sahara's bosom raising." 



On they marched while the sun's fierce rays beat down unrelenting ; 
And with beaming eyes they hailed the sight of the camp with its snow- 
white tenting. 
Then, bravo ! ye gallant sons of Mars ; you fill well your father's places. 
Their days are done ; 'tis now your turn to bear the War God's maces. 



LIBRftRY OF CONGRESS 




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